


Not Even All The Magic In The World Could Help With That

by slyvir



Series: Fills for the Malec Server WINGO [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: #Malec Server WINGO, Alternate Universe - Wings, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hopeful Ending, I can only do long sentences - sorry, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/References to Panic Attacks, M/M, Malec Discord Server WINGO, Minor Character Death, Post-Canon, References to Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Wingfic, Wings, everyone has wings, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:41:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25540777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slyvir/pseuds/slyvir
Summary: On some days the view of the dark water looked so appealing, so calm in contrast to the strident clashing world raging around him. Inside, outside the cacophony of voices never stopped and the water despite being so dark, or maybe because if that looked so calm, promising a moment of stillness.But stillness was a trap made of honey and molasses, smelling and tasting so sweet, but so damn sticky that it could turn into a deadly trap.  Even more so for an immortal, decidedly so for a winged being. Some days plucking was one way to fight the sinking feeling, it wasn’t a conscious process, it was just the one way to remove the molasses from his wings, trying to get the feeling off himself.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Series: Fills for the Malec Server WINGO [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1846801
Kudos: 37
Collections: Fluff vs. Angst Battle 2020, Wingo Summer





	Not Even All The Magic In The World Could Help With That

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ THE TAGS I put the important ones at the end so they don't get lost and are easier to read I am going to give one more warning in here, please if you know it's something you cannot deal with turn back and take care of yourself first
> 
> This is a fill for the prompts Everyone has wings and Plucking (could cover also Wings cuddle in a pinch but the theme will be taken in another fic most likely)  
> 
> 
> LAST CHANCE TRIGGER WARNING: references to Depression, Panic Attack, Suicidal thoughts, Feeling Helpless 
> 
> please be safe and take care of yourself, if it could hurt you just move on,

He used to have his rock to get through his dark days, that one person who could bring him off yet another bridge.

On some days the view of the dark water looked so appealing, so calm in contrast to the strident clashing world raging around him. Inside, outside the cacophony of voices never stopped and the water despite being so dark, or maybe because if that looked so calm, promising a moment of stillness.

But stillness was a trap made of honey and molasses, smelling and tasting so sweet, but so damn sticky that it could turn into a deadly trap. Even more so for an immortal, decidedly so for a winged being. Some days plucking was one way to fight the sinking feeling, it wasn’t a conscious process, it was just the one way to remove the molasses from his wings, trying to get the feeling off himself.

Calcification they called it, the feeling of being dead inside, unable to find any stimuli in life to the point of complete stillness... 

It was believed to be only a warlock’s problem, mundanes were calling it depression, shadowhunters codified it as honour duty and tradition under the catchphrase “emotions are nothing but a distraction”, for Seelie it was apathy... 

Not to say other races didn’t have their share of that particular pie would have been lying. No matter how much one could pretend the contrary, everyone had emotions... And no matter how much the story kept selling out that emotions bring out all that’s good and beautiful in the universe, life has its own way to find balance. One cannot have light if there’s no darkness to make it shine, there could be no joy without having met some hardship to highlight how precious and fragile it could be.

There used to be a time when he still had someone concerned about him, looking out for him, but that was no longer true. He lost them all, and that only allowed the chasm in his heart to bring havoc into his mind.

He brought death into his friend’s house, his dearest cabbage, the man who for centuries knew him better than anyone else... Who looked at him, and despite complaining every single step of the way, was still able to see beyond the glamorous glimmering and shimmering facade that enchanted most people... 

  
He was the one staying despite being able to see all the shattered pieces of him... The broken man chasing crumbs of love just to escape loneliness, giving out yet another piece of his heart and soul hoping for it to be a trade rather than a loss. The insecure young man seeing the blood and hellmist covering his hand trying to not become the monster his father wanted him to be. The terrified boy, orphaned by a mother’s love, who choose to survive no matter what it’d take, as long as he could escape the nightmare for just one more day.

And now he was gone, never to return, leaving a void where warmth used to be... And for what? Waking up a shadowhunter whose speciality was to manipulate people into fixing problems she created... He couldn't exactly make himself believe it was a good thing in the end... She ended up to be more trouble than she was worth...

Maybe so many years ago he should have stuck to his gun and kept out of shadowhunters affairs... Maybe then he wouldn't have lost his best friend, part of his family... Yes, he had gained more along the way, but all the gained ones have a very short lifespan ahead of them, before more heartbreak sets in and he's alone again.

_Camille..._

She had always been surrounded by conflicting emotions for him, for a long time she felt like the only one who cared enough to stop him when he was on the bridge, looking down at the water, wondering if its cold embrace would grant him a moment of peace...   
On the darkest days after he destroyed himself for choosing to protect his child, over the woman that had been his rock to cling to desperately, he finds his thoughts wondering if that night on the black friars' bridge he left behind thoughts of water’s cold embrace only to trade it with the cold arms of the vampire. 

And in the end, after all who abandoned him, he made the awful choice to abandon her, send her to the mercy of a slowly changing Clave that would nonetheless be if not the death of her, at least her withering. The comfort he could find in knowing he has done it for Raphael, that at least he’ll have him around to remember why it was worth blow away his lifeline...

Only to have it all smashed into dust and ashes when his boy regained his humanity, losing the immortal life he never wanted.

Sure he was getting some sort of comfort watching Raphael smile mesmerized dawn after dawn, and walking in broad light with a smile, going to mass, making arrangement to join the seminary to be a priest. But it was all very bittersweet, despite being surrounded by more people he had in his life for decades, it was a sobering and quite frightening thought to realize that the majority of them were mortals.

If he lost his grip on living in the present, he was going to drown in the despair that all is going to be lost in a few decades... He would be, once again, be the one left standing alone as he buries those he loved, cursed to carry on haunted by the memories... And once his time would come to pass, it would be even worse, if all his most precious lovers of the past got an item in a box, Alexander was going to be the ghost haunting all the rooms of all the homes he ever got to pass...

As if summoned by his own dark thoughts, a gentle brush of feathers against feathers was gently calling him back into the present, with the faint scent of sandalwood and the highlight of cinnamon that his husband always seems to bring out from the cologne they both use. Protection and healing, pretty accurate for who Alexander was to him...

Warm huge wings surrounding him protectively, creating a safe space without smothering or trapping him. A reminder his husband was there for him, in silence without empty words or promises.  
Just a solid presence and the offer of open arms to hold him if he felt like falling, but no demands.

He might not have his rock anymore, but for now his husband was his anchor, reminding him the words said so long ago, after a wedding that never was and a kiss that blew the very ground they were standing on to make things right... He might be the High Warlock of Alicante, but even he could not see the future...

So, for now, they could brave another moment, forcing a breath down their lungs and just get through one more minute, one more second, and try to find solace that it did pass and they were both still here, and then it was just a matter of repeating the process long enough until it’s easier... Never easy, but easier... Until

He took a deep breath letting his own wings fold closer to his body and stepped into his husband’s waiting arms, focusing solely on the feeling of his warm wings wrapping them together in a private bubble of peace. He knew the time available to him to enjoy this was limited stretched in the future, but they were here now, he had to remember the here and now was the only moment he could count on.

After all, immortality just stopped old age and natural causes to be a problem, it didn't mean he couldn't die, otherwise standing on a bridge looking down ready to take a jump wouldn't be such a huge final leap.


End file.
